


A Date with Long Ago

by GwaithGweneth



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dinner, M/M, Old Friends, best enemies, date
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:15:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwaithGweneth/pseuds/GwaithGweneth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of the Ponds, the Doctor wanders for a while before deciding to stay in Victorian London. And the TARDIS, who always takes him where he needs to go, takes him to a city which is currently being visited by a very old friend.</p><p>Or enemy.</p><p>Or something.</p><p>(Or: The Eleventh Doctor has dinner with Delgado Master because CLEARLY THIS SHOULD HAPPEN.) Spoilers, sort of, for the first half of season seven. Can be read as Doctor/Master or just a very affectionate and stalkery friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Date with Long Ago

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've tried to write this entirely in British English, but there may be some mistakes--I tend to switch back and forth when I'm writing rough drafts, then correct later, and I may have missed something.
> 
> Honestly, this didn't really live up to my original vision of it. I would love comments, and constructive criticism is quite literally one of my favorite things in the world, I think.
> 
> Also, the world needs more Eleven/Master fic. And more Delgado!Master fic. I've done my part, GET ON IT PEOPLE.
> 
> Edit: I have done some revisions based on Lyaka's absolutely wonderful constructive criticism. They were going to be slightly less major but then the Doctor started talking and now the fic is like 300 words longer, which in a 2000 word fic is quite a lot, actually.

The sun was shining. The birds were singing. The children were laughing. It was an alien sun, of course, and alien birds, and alien children with alien laughs. It always was. Funny how it never used to bother him, when there was his own sun and birds and children to go back to.

Funny. 

And now he was older, and alone, and even the little girl who he had loved and broken and fixed a thousand times was gone, and part of him wanted nothing more than to lie beneath the two suns of Gallifrey with his children and his granddaughter. He’d even picnic with the Rani on the dusty rocks or slopes of blood red grass, if she were willing. 

Perhaps she could bring one of her dinosaurs along.

Odd woman, the Rani. He could see in his mind’s eye the sneer she would get were he to so much as suggest a picnic. ‘I’m working, Doctor. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?’

He chuckled.

‘Something funny, Doctor?’ said a voice from behind him.

Odd. He hadn't heard that voice in a while—and the voices in his head were usually in his head, not behind him. He turned, and smiled at the man who had spoken.

‘I was imagining the Rani at a picnic.’

‘Now that is amusing,’ said the Master. ‘This is new. I’m not stuck with you, am I? Only I was just on my way to see your third.’

‘Aren't you always? What is it this time? I wouldn't want to give anything away.’

‘I intend to summon Kronos.’

‘You and your summonings.’ The Doctor could feel tears pricking at his eyes as he remembered. He missed having the Master to bicker with, back when his fights were little more than excuses for swordplay, selfish and childish squabbles that somehow managed to include the world. He missed being young. He smiled again and rubbed at the corner of his eye. ‘Yes. Well. Do you…Master, do you have time for supper, by any chance?’

‘Anything for you, dear Doctor. Though as its only breakfast time, perhaps we should rethink the specifics of the meal.’

‘You’re terribly boring sometimes, you know. But fine, if you insist.’ He offered his arm, and the Master took it.

‘You’re certainly well-mannered in the future. Perhaps I would like to keep this version.’

The Doctor looked at him, a sad smile on his face, then turned his head. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get to me eventually.’

‘Oh dear. Remind me never to let you play cards with my money.’

‘Why would I do that? It’s better than playing with my money.’

The Master chuckled. ‘You never have any money.’

‘Exactly why I might wish to use yours.’

The walked on in silence through the streets, until they came to a small restaurant, where a creature covered in tentacles was selling some food that the Doctor did not recognize. 

There they stopped, and, when they had each bought one of the mysterious dishes, chose a table.

‘So, my dear Doctor,’ said the Master when they were seated, ‘If I may ask: Why are we having breakfast together? Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but we do generally try to meet in the right order. It makes for far better conversation, I find.’

The Doctor shrugged. ‘Maybe I just wanted to have breakfast with you. Or dinner. Or—you know, I’m not sure they distinguish on this planet? Anyway, perhaps I simply wanted to sit down with an old friend and talk. We never get much of a chance to do that. Always too busy squabbling and just…doing things. Maybe I just want to sit with you and not do anything.’

The Master nodded slowly. ‘Well then, Doctor,’ he said, taking a bite of his breakfast, ‘Let us sit.’

The Doctor watched him eat, leaning on the table, shoulders slumped. He didn't move, barely blinked, just sat there taking in the sight of the Master, his graceful movements, his quiet dignity, the small self-satisfied smirk that stayed on his face as he ate. He felt the faint humming, the faint pressure of the Master’s mind against his, the gentle hold that meant that another Time Lord was there. That the Master was there.

He smiled sadly, and wiped at his eyes again.

‘You should eat, Doctor,’ said the Master.

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘Unlikely. You got food.’ The Master set down his fork. The Doctor neither responded nor picked up his fork, and after a minute the Master continued. ‘Doctor, I need you to close your eyes.’

The Doctor made his most incredulous face. ‘You expect me to close my eyes for you? After all those times you tried to kill me or take over the universe?’

‘My dear Doctor, I’m hurt. Do you really think I would stoop so low? I like to think I have a bit more class than that.’

‘Of course you do,’ said the Doctor, his voice tinged with sarcasm. He knew, of course, that the Master was right. The Master didn’t want him dead, not really. This Master didn’t even want to hurt him. He remembered those days—days of pranks and messing with each other’s experiments, of laughter interjected into arguments, when he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend that he and the Master weren't friends. When half the time ‘fights’ turned into ‘team up to save the world’, when they argued like schoolboys or an old married couple, depending on the day, when…

When they were happy.

When being stranded on one planet was just bearable because at least he wasn't bored, at least he had the Master, at least he wasn't alone.

The Doctor didn't want to close his eyes. If he closed his eyes, he would have to stop looking at the Master.

He didn't want that.

‘Why do I have to close my eyes, then?’ he asked, to stall for time.

‘Because, Doctor, I need to speak to you, and you have already managed to give away a fascinating amount of information regarding the future. I know you, and you cannot lie to me, so I need you to close your eyes so that you don’t give anything else away.’

The Doctor took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He felt the Master’s hand on his, warm and strong and firm.

‘Doctor, I don’t know exactly what happens to me. I don’t want to. As much as I would love to bend the universe to my will, even I would not break that law lightly. But I do know this: There is only one way I would ever stop chasing you, and that is if you were by my side. I will never leave you, Doctor. I will never stop following you. Not even if you beg me. If I am destroyed, I will come back. Do you know why?’

The Doctor stayed silent, not daring to move lest he break the spell.

‘Because, dear Doctor, I belong with you. And you belong with me.’

The Doctor opened his eyes and chuckled. There was no humour in it, only bitter irony. ‘You really believe that, don’t you?’ 

The Master tutted. 'There you go again, giving things away. Not that it matters, I suppose—nothing you can stay will stop me trying to convince you that we belong together. If I have to torture you to make you realize that, I will. If I have to follow you across the universe, I will, and if I have to come back from the dead, then death will be no obstacle. If I am lost, I will find you, and if you are lost, I will find you, and if you run from me, I will find you and chase you and take you as my prisoner.’

The Doctor pulled his hands back from the Master’s. ‘What if I were to tell you it was all pointless? Not just pursuing me, I mean, but everything? What if I were to tell you that it doesn’t matter how hard you try or what your intentions are, because in the end it all means nothing. In the end there is no difference between you and me, between the choices I make and the choices you make. It doesn't matter how loyal you are or how relentlessly you pursue me or how much you care, because in the end the universe does what it wants and nothing else. And what if I said that what it wants is to destroy every tiny spark of good in the universe? What would you do then?'

The Master sat up straight and picked up his fork. 'You know what I would do, Doctor, or you wouldn't risk asking. You know perfectly well that nothing you say, no warning you give will change the way I feel, and no warning will change what I will do.' He took a bite of his food, chewing slowly. 'Besides,' he said wiping the corners of his mouth neatly with a napkin, 'It isn't over for you, Doctor.'

The Doctor crossed his arms and leaned forward once more, letting his body relax. 'And how do you know? Don’t tell me I’ve given that away, too?'

'No. But when this finally ends, we will be together—because I am extremely stubborn, and you are extremely stubborn, and both of us want this, although you have not yet admitted it to me. And because I am more stubborn than you, we will most likely be ruling the universe with an iron fist, living in the lap of luxury. And if you’re very lucky, I might let you keep one of your humans about, if only to get you off my back occasionally.’

The Doctor smiled--a real, happy smile this time, if also a little sad--and took the Master’s hand, tears leaving salty tracks on his cheeks. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the Master’s cheek.

‘Goodness,’ said the Master. ‘Whatever happened, it must have been worse than I thought.’

‘Maybe I’m just affectionate,’ replied the Doctor.

‘It’s not the affection that worries me, it’s the…gentleness. It’s rather off-putting.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said the Doctor, then quickly: ‘Not about the kiss.’

The Master squeezed his hand. ‘I know. I forgive you.’

‘You don’t know what you’re forgiving.’

‘I forgive you anyway,’ said the Master. ‘One of us has to.’

The Doctor nodded. ‘I should go,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘You should be getting back to me, and I’ve already said too much.’

‘You haven’t eaten,’ said the Master. ‘You asked me to breakfast—‘

‘I asked you to dinner,’ interrupted the Doctor.

‘You asked to eat with me, and you haven’t eaten. So sit, and eat.’

The Doctor looked at him for a moment, silent. Then he sat back down and picked up his fork.

He did not say much while he ate. The Master, on the other hand, said quite a bit. He bragged about his plans and complained about the Doctor’s occasional bouts of idiocy—though the complaints were always accompanied by fond looks. The Doctor was happy to sit and listen, despite the more than occasional sting of grief. Often he would think how very young this Master was, young and carefree and almost entirely sane, at least by Time Lord standards. He did miss being young, sometimes.

Eventually, though, despite the pit in his stomach which forced him to eat at a snail’s pace, the Doctor finished his meal, and midday found the Doctor and the Master parting ways outside the Master’s TARDIS. The Doctor pulled the Master close and kissed him once more on the cheek, letting the Master’s being wash over his senses. Then he stepped back.

‘Master,” he said, “Before you go…savour what you have. It’s good, what you have. I know you want more, I know you want the universe and me and everything, but…just…savour it. Because it’s good. And because one out of three is better than nothing. Nothing lasts forever, Master, not even forever, so just…don’t rush it.”

‘Advice is a dangerous thing, Doctor. Especially when given to the past.’

‘It would be,’ agreed the Doctor, smiling slightly, ‘but I know you won’t take it.’ The Doctor turned, and began to leave.

'You got old,' he heard the Master say from behind him.

‘Everyone gets old,' said the Doctor, ‘If they live long enough.’


End file.
